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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23049685">first memory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/butthulu/pseuds/butthulu'>butthulu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tacenda [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Steven Universe (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, i firmly stand by pink diamond being a child at the beginning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 05:55:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23049685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/butthulu/pseuds/butthulu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Pink's first memory is not of her emergence.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tacenda [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>first memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingbirdbandit/gifts">hummingbirdbandit</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pink’s earliest memory is not of her emergence. It’s of sparkling white walls bathed in bright light and a hand combing through her hair. It’s of a voice, humming softly, the sound echoing through a vast chamber that makes her feel so very small. It’s of her head on a pure white knee, of sandals far below her, her body curled up on a hard surface and her gem glowing with contentment.</p>
<p>(At least, she thinks in retrospect it was contentment. It must have been contentment; she hadn’t had time to know anything else.)</p>
<p>In the moment, she doesn’t think it’s odd that she doesn’t remember being born. She doesn’t know any better. She doesn’t know about rejuvenators or about other gems. She doesn’t know that she’s <em>supposed</em> to remember where she comes from. She doesn’t know about any of that. All there is, all there ever has been, is curling up on a throne with her head on White’s knee. White’s hand in her hair. White’s voice. White light. White walls.</p>
<p>Pink closes her eyes. </p>
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